


Strong enough

by BrightDream



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 07:05:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2379278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightDream/pseuds/BrightDream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"Aah. You fought them off. Maybe you wished one of them could overpower you, fling you down, tear off your clothes. None of them were strong enough. I’m strong enough.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Written for JB "One Quote", although it got out of hand and became more about the entire dialogue instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strong enough

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm totally cheating with this one. First, I chose a show quote and not an appropriate book quote. Second, I intended to explore just one quote, but I ended up exploring more than one quote from the same dialogue.
> 
> It doesn't really fit the prompt anymore, but as yesterday in tinychat they said "NO RULES" , no rules it is.
> 
> Also, I should warn that because this uses a show dialogue, I thought it would be fun to explore show canon for a change.

It was late and the bed felt warm and comfortable, the sheets soft against her skin, too many pillows around her.

The last time Brienne had managed to sleep in a bed this clean and safe for more than a couple nights, she had still been on Tarth. Now, after all the perils of the road, she finally had the opportunity to rest again, not in some small, second-hand place as she had dared to hope, but in a room more luxurious than any other she had seen in her life.

The room that had been made hers was ample and rich, meant for the high ladies of court, practiced in the games and the extravagance of King’s Landing. It certainly wasn’t meant for someone as ungainly and rough as Brienne of Tarth, much more a knight than a lady. Yet, this was the room Ser Jaime had arranged her.

Brienne hid her face in a pillow, tried to think of something other than him.

She hadn’t seen him much in King’s Landing, at least not much when compared to the amount of time they had spent together on the road, days and nights shared for a lack of option.

Now, they both had an option, but a part of her wished they didn’t, an ugly and selfish part, which wished she could stay here a while longer, which chose to conveniently  forget the fact that Sansa Stark was right here, that she should be taking the girl home right this moment.

_I will take her after the wedding,_ she told herself for the tenth time that day, guilty, forcefully attempting to replace those thoughts.

Her mind didn’t even hesitate: one moment she was still thinking of her vow and her duty, the next she was back to Jaime, his smile, his arrogance, his voice.

This time Brienne didn’t try to fight it, found herself remembering them on the road, before the Bloody Mummers had arrived.

Jaime had been even more difficult than normal back then, with his constant jests, offending and teasing, trying his best to get a reaction out of her:

_“Your childhood must have been awful for you. Were you a foot taller than all of them? They laughed at you, called you names. Some boys like a challenge. One or two must have tried to get inside of Big Brienne."_

It had taken an effort to remain impassive.

_"One or two tried."_

_"Aah. You fought them off. Maybe you wished one of them could overpower you, fling you down, tear off your clothes. None of them were strong enough. I’m strong enough.”_

For some grace of the Gods, she hadn’t reacted when Jaime had first said it, too focused on the task of walking him through the woods, too angry with his mockery to really think about what he had implied. Afterwards, though, while Jaime slept by her side on the floor, she had found himself remembering the conversation, imagining…-

In her bed in King’s Landing, a faint blush colored her cheeks.

_"Not interested."_

_"Of course you are. You’d love to know what it feels like to be a woman."_

She would, Brienne admitted to herself, and blushed even redder.

Septa Roelle had always told her that there was no pleasure to find in a marriage bed, not for any lady, and certainly not for one like Brienne of Tarth. She had told her that men were the only ones that enjoyed bed activities, that if she ever was lucky enough to get someone to call lord husband the thing to do would be to endure, to wait for it to pass.

Brienne had believed her for long years, sure that she would never lay with a men, never want to. But then Renly had come, bringing with him adolescent dreams and a strange feeling in her low stomach, something she couldn’t quite explain.

What she felt thinking about Jaime was similar, yet different, more powerful and more real than thinking about Renly had ever been.

There was an odd sort of tension between her and Jaime, something that waited to be ignited under her skin. All she needed was a look, or a smile, or an unintentional touch, and suddenly it was there, ever present, that feeling, that thrumming, that _want_ …-

_“None of them were strong enough”_ she heard his voice resonating inside her head _“I’m strong enough.”_

He _was_ strong enough.

She had faced him over the bridge, felt the strength his lean body hid. She had seen him after, his strength even without a hand, the way he had jumped in that bear pit, trying to protect her…

He could overpower her, she thought.

He could outfight her, knock her into the ground, straddle her.

She would fight him in the beginning, try to push him away, but he would insist, hold her, and she would finally give in: let him pin her down, let him tear of her clothes, skilled even one handed…

He would be hard, she mused, and felt another wave of heat across her face. She didn’t know how that really would feel, but she could imagine it, could lower a hand to press against her small clothes.

He would want her so bad, would pant against her ear. She would want him as well, ask for it like she had heard whores do at Renly’s camp, and he would bring his hand into her breeches.

“Some boys like a challenge and I’m one of them” he would say, touching her nub, and in her big and lonely bed, she dared to do so “All I’ve ever wanted was to get inside Big Brienne…”

She released a little moan into the pillow, her fingers lowering to find her slick entrance.

She didn’t do this often, and she had never done it thinking of Jaime before, only Renly. It felt far too easy, though, to picture his handsome body, his golden hair, his voice rough and teasing as she was used to…

She imagined his naked cock, how it would look, feel. She had once or twice caught men masturbating in the camp, knew how big it would get, pictured how hard it would be against her hand. He wouldn’t let her touch it for long, would put his long fingers in her instead, open her up. Just then would he slide in, and Gods, she had no idea how that would feel, not something that size, but she could imagine that too.

She pressed her fingers inside, saw Jaime right there, over her, sinking and moaning and still holding her, even though she wasn’t going anywhere, even though she couldn’t have stopped even if he wanted to.

“You’ll know how it feels now, wench” Jaime would say, pushing into her “You’ll know how it feels like to be a woman, _my woman_ , you’ll know…”

Brienne muffled another moan, moved one hand to her nub, the other still inside herself. She was close already, could feel the pleasure about to burst, almost ready.

She stopped thinking about Jaime’s words, merely pictured him on top of her, thrusting, one time then another, breathless against her ear, becoming desperate, erratic, again and again and …-

Brienne trembled and came, pulsing and shaking, overwhelmed with the intensity of it, with how fast her body had reacted.

_Oh no._

She took a deep breath, waited for her heart to go back to its normal pace, her limbs shaky.

_This is dangerous_ , she thought, _I shouldn’t have been thinking like this, this is wrong…_

Brienne turned in bed, tried to calm her slightly panicked mind.

Joffrey’s wedding was just around the corner and, one way or the other, she would soon be leaving it all behind: King’s Landing, the soft bed, Jaime and all that he meant to her.

**Author's Note:**

> This work was beta'ed by [ josiepug ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/josiepug/pseuds/josiepug), aka the coolest beta ever. :D


End file.
